


the wreckage of us

by ashotoflife



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: A vent, Angst, F/M, babies have anger issues but wbk, ngl this is pretty much just lucas and maya yelling at each other, post-ski lodge, riley isn't here but she's also the loudest presence in the room if you get what im saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashotoflife/pseuds/ashotoflife
Summary: lucas and maya and the aftermath
Relationships: Lucas Friar/Maya Hart
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	1. in the aftermath of a storm

**Author's Note:**

> honestly, this is just a straight-up vent. if you told me last week I'd be writing lucaya fanfic in 2020 I would have called you crazy but here we are! I don't even know where this came from but suddenly I'm freshly enraged by how inconsistent, convoluted, and lazy the writing in season 3 was. So enjoy the angst lol.
> 
> (also part 1 was supposed to be from maya's pov but then I ended up slipping into lucas's pov so I just marked where the shift was)

_maya_

“Oh shit, Hart! We gotta go!” Carla whisper-shouted in Maya’s direction.

“I’m not done yet, gimme a sec,” Maya responded distractedly not looking up from where she was tagging the back door of Mimi’s.

“It’s a fucking tag, not the goddamn Mona Lisa!” That’s when Maya heard the crunch of footsteps and realized that someone was coming. _Oh fuck._

“I just gotta grab my–” Maya had started hurriedly shoving her paint canisters into her bag but before she could even finish her sentence Renée and Carla had taken off. “Some friends” Maya muttered as she threw her bag over her shoulder and scrambled towards the alleyway. Right as she was rounding the corner, her foot slipped and she fell face first on the asphalt, her hands coming up to catch her fall. Maya looked back to see what had tripped her up. _Of fucking course I get taken down by a half eaten pizza crust._

“Maya?” _No._

“Maya, is that you?” _No no no. You have got to be kidding me. Okay, it’s official. There’s a God. Because there’s no way my luck is this bad. There’s gotta be somebody out there scripting this shit._

“What the hell Maya?” His voice was disarmingly deep for a ninth grader and the freaking southern twang that made it so distinctive and unique in the middle of Manhattan always did funny things to her stomach. Maya breathed in sharply and forced herself to look back over her shoulder at Lucas. 

“If it isn’t the neighborhood’s moral compass? Just who I wanted to see” she drawled sarcastically. 

“Are you okay?” he hurried over to her and lightly grasped her upper arm, helping her back up. She bit down on her lip trying to ignore the pain in her hands and knees and the obnoxious tingly feeling where he had held her. When she looked up at him, she saw he was staring at her hands which she now realized were scratched up and bleeding. He looked concerned... 

and she hated it. 

She curled her hands into fists and took a few steps back. He snapped his attention back up to her and then took in the surrounding area. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” The back of Mimi’s was covered in colorful graffiti (and even more colorful language) and there was broken glass and stone everywhere from the statue her and Carla had wrecked. A part of her was mad that Lucas immediately thought she was the culprit. Most of her conceded it was fairly obvious. “You could get arrested for this shit? What were you thinking?” he repeated. Maya rolled her eyes at him. 

“I was thinking I was doing them a favor. That statue was ugly. Not to mention the pizza here is shit so if they have to shut down for a bit to clean up the mess I see that as a win,” Maya explained casually. 

[What she didn’t mention was that Mimi’s was the restaurant where her parents had their first date and her mother still got this wistful look on her face anytime they passed it, as if it contained in it an alternate universe where things went better for them. Maya was sick of that look.]

Lucas’s jaw ticked, he was clearly getting increasingly pissed off and, for some inexplicable reason, Maya savored his reaction. It was the most she had gotten from him in months. Ever since Maya told Lucas to choose Riley and he did. 

“So this is what’s been taking up so much of your time these days? Why you never seem to be around anymore?” Lucas asked, the anger seeping into his voice. 

“I’m just blowing off steam. Don’t get your panties in a twist” Maya answered with a slight shrug. 

“Blowing off steam is watching a movie with your friends or taking a jog, it’s not trashing a restaurant.”

“You know what, Huckleberry, save the white knight shit for someone who needs it, okay?”

“This isn’t you Maya.” Lucas snapped forcefully. Maya huffed a laugh. 

“Great, that’s exactly what I need. Another person telling me who I am.” Lucas seemed taken aback at that and opened his mouth to respond but Maya rushed on. “Look, I smashed a little sculpture and spray painted the back door, it’s not like I robbed the place. So how about you save the speech and leave me the fuck alone.” Maya was angry, not at getting caught really, just at everything. It had been like that for a while. In some ways, she’d been angry all her life but for a little while last year she’d thought she was letting go of that anger until Riley reminded her who she was: the broken girl that breaks everything around her. 

She couldn’t be angry at Riley for the mess that had been the past few months of their lives so she directed it all at him, the remaining point in their screwed up little incestuous triangle. I mean, she hated him, hadn’t she? That’s what they were before she got all confused, right? 

“Come home with me, we’ll clean you up and–”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Maya shot back, suddenly feeling a bit hysterical. “Look cowboy I know it’s scary in the big big city at night with no stars to guide you back to the ranch, but I’m not going home with you.” Maya’s tone shifted from irritated to amused as she said her next line.

* * *

_lucas_

“You know Friar, you’re not as tough as you think you are.” She was being deflective and Lucas was growing more and more exasperated by a conversation that wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Maya, it’s late, it’s dangerous to be out here–”

“I can take care of myself. So leave me the fuck _alone_ ” she cut him off again. 

Lucas looked at her features. Her clenched jaw, her chin tilted in defiance, the fire in her eyes that told him tonight was not the night. How so much resolve and stubbornness could be packed into such a small person still astounded him. She wasn’t going to listen to him, at least not now. Not to mention if they stood out here any longer someone really might find them. 

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.” Maya nodded tersely, looking away from him. She bent down to pick up her fallen things. Lucas began to walk down the alley towards the street but stopped himself and looked back at her. 

“You know Hart, you aren’t as tough as you think you are either.” Her head whipped up towards his and for the briefest of moments, he saw the walls drop down around her. She looked unfocused, vulnerable and a little scared and suddenly he was thinking of her wearing that exact same expression when they were just inches apart and his hands were cradling her face lit by the warm glow of a campfire and a million stars in the sky. She’d look at him like that then too, all big blue doe eyes. Terrified and _wanting_ all at once. No matter how hard he tried to shake the image, it was seared into the back of his brain. It was like the beginning and end of everything. It had been the first time and the only time where his mind had shut out all the other noise, all the fears and anxieties and insecurities went silent in the face of a force so much more formidable than anything he had faced before. 

It was just _her her her._

But then the expression vanished and she hardened again. He turned back around and continued to walk away, knowing now that she wasn’t lost. The girl that could drown out all the noise was still there. 

He’d reach her. 


	2. who's left standing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from lucas's pov

Lucas had been loitering outside of the janitor’s closet for the past ten minutes. He knew Maya was in school today (her absences had been a lot more frequent recently) because he’d caught the tail end of her golden mane as she slipped into the art room. Eventually, she’d come out of there and, when she did, he’d strike. 

After another few minutes, the bell rang calling for the next period. Lucas had a study hall, so he could wait her out a bit longer. The hall was getting increasingly crowded with students but he kept his eyes trained on the door. Finally, she slipped out of the room in dark blues and blacks. Her clothes had been a lot darker recently– worn too like she’d dug them out from the back of her closet. He briefly wondered what happened to the clothes that Shawn had bought for her. 

As Maya walked past him, completely oblivious to his presence because of the high volume of students around (not to mention she couldn’t see above most of their heads), Lucas reached out and grasped her arm in a tighter grip than he had the other day outside of Mimi’s. Without warning, he pulled her along with him into the janitor’s closet. 

Maya wrenched her arm from Lucas’s grasp, momentarily looking pissed but quickly adopting a look of cool indifference. She casually leaned back against the shelves of the janitor’s closet as if she had just walked in here herself of her own volition and hadn’t been dragged. It was one of her odd idiosyncrasies that he couldn't help but admire. The way she always had to prove in whatever small gesture that she was totally in control. 

[His mind went there again. The image of her bright eyes shining up at him came unbidden. It was the one time where she wasn’t in control; when it had been _him_ that had reached out and grabbed her, pulling her in close. He could have kissed her and she would have let him. He tried not to think about that much but a small masochistic part of him was _always_ thinking about that.]

“What the hell do you want Friar?” She flicked her gaze up to his, those stupidly pretty blue eyes looking both piercing and uninterested all at once. 

“I’m not here to tell you who you are.”

“Well, that’s a relief” she responded sarcastically, rolling her eyes up at him. Her body language screamed _you’re wasting my time_. 

“I’m here to tell you who I am.” Her brows furrowed slightly, looking just a bit curious before she quickly reminded herself that she didn't care. “I’m angry” Lucas stated matter of factly. It clearly wasn’t what she was expecting. “I’m angry all the time. That’s how my dad was, or is. Back when we lived with him in Texas he seemed to constantly be teetering on the edge, about to snap. He wasn’t…” Lucas trailed off, his fingers shaking before he quickly clenched them into fists. “He wasn’t a nice guy.” 

[The bruises faded long ago. The only visible reminder was the small scar just below his jawline where his dad’s college ring had caught his skin]. 

“So, yeah, surprise surprise you’re not the only one with dad issues and a messy past. In school, I was always fucking up and getting into trouble, causing fights. It was how I protected people, but, mostly, it was how I protected myself. People were afraid of me and a weird _sick_ part of me liked knowing that." Lucas looked down for a moment and shook his head in disgust before regaining his composure. "But a much bigger part of me hated myself for it because even if it was how my dad raised me to be, it wasn’t how my mom raised me to be. It wasn’t the person I _wanted_ to be. And when I went too far, that’s when I got a chance to start over. And that’s when I came to New York and met you and Riley and Farkle and everyone else.” 

Lucas stopped and took a breath. Maya was listening intently. For all of her supposed indifference, Lucas could see it on her face. The way she hung onto each word, allowing herself to process it. He felt relieved. He was finally getting through to her. He could do this. He could bring her back. Back from the edge, a place he’s spent way too much time dangling from himself. 

“Maya, I got the chance to do and be better. Because that’s all it is in the end. The whole “true you” thing is _bullshit_ and we both know it. It’s the choices you make that decide who you are. You and me, Maya, we’re the same. And we get to choose who to be.” At the word “choices” Maya had finally flinched and broken eye contact from him. Her wild blonde hair hung over her face so he couldn’t read her expression. Lucas inhaled and decided he’d said his peace. He’d let her sit on it for a while. So he slowly backed away from her, only now realizing how close he had gotten, then turned and began to head to the door. 

“Is that why you chose her?” 

Lucas froze in his tracks. Not just at the words, but at the sound of her voice. It was the most vulnerable, the most desperate, and the most _small_ he’s heard her in a long long time. How could he respond to that? What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? But he didn’t have to mull it over too long because Maya seemed quick to catch herself and change directions, her voice steely and full of sharp edges again. 

“Don’t fucking act like you’re any better than me. You’re doing exactly what I am.” _No._

“Fulfilling your duties.” _Not true._

“Playing a role.” _This is who he is. He’d will it into existence._

“ _Acting_ the part.” _He chose to be good. He’d_ be _good._

“So yeah, you’re just as full of shit as I am. But don’t you dare say we’re the same. You think just because you got some daddy issues and did some shitty things, you and me are the same?”

At this Lucas quickly turned back around to look at her, head-on, as she continued to verbally assault him. Her New York accent getting a little thicker the meaner she got. She was angry, fiery, _alive_ in that awful, wonderful way that only Maya Hart knew how to be.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like we get eachother!” Maya’s voice was rising and he had half a mind to tell her to quiet down; there were surely students just outside in the hallway, but she was on a roll now. “Because newsflash, you’re playing _prince. fucking. charming_! You get to be good and heroic and a righteous pain in the ass. And you know what part I get? I get to play the fucking screw up, the scapegoat, the one who always, _always_ loses in the end so that I can make everyone else feel better about their sorry lives! So you know what, _Lucas_?” His name dripping with venom as it left her lips. “Lose the goddamn chip on your shoulder. It doesn’t match your shiny armor.” 

_He hated her. He absolutely hated her. He hated them. He hated the way she saw things so clearly with that sharp intellect and remarkable wisdom that nobody seemed to realize she had. He hated the way she saw through him. So fearlessly and shamelessly, exposing him. Like one moment they were comfortably standing in the dark and then she’s pointing the spotlight directly at him. And he’s stuck bathing in its skin itching heat and eye-watering brightness and no matter how hard or fast he runs from it he can’t seem to fucking escape._

Lucas felt petrified, stuck in the spot. Maya’s expression softened, but only infinitesimally. Instead, she looked more resigned than anything. Resigned to their fates. 

“You know what? Fine _._ Maybe you’re right. Maybe we choose who we get to be and that’s all that really matters. But if that’s the case then I’m choosing the version _she_ painted me as. Don’t act like you’re not just doing the same.” 

And with that Maya swept past him, yanking open the janitor’s closet door, letting the light in for just a brief moment before shutting it as she walked out. 

Leaving him behind, standing in the dark. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maya and lucas had real feelings for each other and maya got gaslit by her friends into thinking that her hard-earned growth wasn't her "true self." also lucas deserved to actually be fleshed out and not just the "love interest." and that's all I have to say on that.


	3. not a soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i felt like this needed one more chapter where there was less yelling, so this chapter is actually the final one

_i think i’ve seen this film before..._

  
  


Lucas trudged up the stairs to him and his mom’s apartment ignoring the buzzing in his pocket. It was probably a text from Riley wondering what was wrong with him. He didn’t have an answer, at least not one that would satisfy her, so he ignored it.

He was supposed to be with her right now. Her, Farkle, and Zay. They had an exam for history on Monday and were studying at Topanga’s. 

Fridays at Topanga’s had become a pretty regular thing for the group and Lucas was always there, without fail. But ever since his, well, talk with Maya (if you could really call her yelling at him a “talk”) Lucas had been avoiding being with the others. He felt overwhelmingly anxious anytime he was in the same room with Riley. Like at any moment she would see through him the way Maya had. 

And it wasn’t just Riley. It was everybody. Someone was gonna look at the sight of him next to the perfect girl surrounded by her perfect friends and realize the picture was off. 

If he was being entirely honest, it wasn’t just this week. It was the past two months. Ever since the ski lodge trip. 

He had gotten good at going through the motions: picking Riley up in the mornings, paying attention in class, saying the right things, laughing at the right times. No one knew how careful he was being, how he thought through everything he said and did to make sure it was the _right_ thing to say, the _right_ thing to do. He was Lucas the Good, future veterinarian, Riley Matthew’s knight on a white horse, prince charming in the denouement…

But the armor was too tight, the crown too heavy, and the sword was like a dead weight in his hand. 

And the worst part? The worst of it found him in his dreams when he could no longer control the narrative with all his good intentions. Instead of dreaming up the damsel with brown eyes and soft hair, he saw a girl made of electric blue energy and the gold of a lion’s mane. And he wasn’t saving her. She was saving him. 

Lucas had only seen Maya once since the incident on Monday. He was sitting in chemistry class, an empty stool beside him and trying to keep his mind from wandering when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, lingering in the doorway. She had this expression on her face as she looked in the classroom. She looked, well, _wistful_. As if she wanted to be in that room but didn’t know how to be anymore. 

But then she caught his eye and her expression hardened before she abruptly turned and fled. 

He hadn’t told Riley about seeing her, not then, not on Monday when he’d pulled her into the janitor’s closet, not last week when he’d found her, scratched up and bleeding behind Mimi’s. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time they had talked about Maya. As Lucas unlocked his apartment door, he wondered when Maya had become something off limits for them. 

“Lucas, honey, is that you?” Lucas’ mother called out from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Ma, it’s me,” Lucas replied as he toed his shoes off. His mother rounded the corner with an odd look on her face that made him pause in his movements. 

“There’s someone here to see you,” she said as she gestured towards his room. Lucas’s brows furrowed as he dropped his book bag and headed to his room. 

The first thing he noticed was that there was a breeze coming in through the open window. He looked up to see the window ajar and there she was, sitting out on his fire escape of all places. Suddenly, he felt overcome by nerves and questions. Was she here to apologize? Yell at him some more?

He carefully tapped against the window pane to alert her to his presence. She just moved over so he could let himself out. He pulled the window shut behind him before sitting down next to her, pulling his knees up to his chest, cramped in the small space. 

They sat there in silence for a while. Looking for something to say, he thought about asking her why she wasn’t at Topanga’s with the others. But that would be a stupid question seeing as she hadn’t been to one of their study sessions in the past two months. He thought back to the second week she had missed the weekly hangout. 

_“Lucas, would you be a dear and get me a hot chocolate?” Riley grinned up at him from where she sat next to him on the couch._

_“Of course, Riley” Lucas smiled, closing his laptop. Riley leaned over and pecked him on the cheek and he got up to order the drink._

_As Lucas walked over to the counter he heard Zay speak up behind him._

_“Hey, Riles, where’s Maya been? Haven’t seen her in a while.” Lucas felt himself freeze up, momentarily forgetting what he was doing._

_“Oh, you know… she’s just doing a Maya thing” Riley reassured but something in her voice gave way to her uncertainty. Lucas almost looked back over at her before–_

_“Excuse me sir,” the barista in front of him repeated. “Would you like to order?”_

That wasn’t the last time anyone asked but as Maya continued to miss their study sessions, then movie nights, then classes, people stopped wondering where she was. Riley never mentioned Maya around him and he didn’t ask. Not once. He wasn’t quite sure what the game was but he knew to play along. 

Soon their group had fallen back into a routine, like nothing had changed. For his part, Lucas made an effort to play the dutiful boyfriend and Riley continued smiling up at him like he’d hung the moon and stars. All was right in the world. All as it should be. And everyone ignored the 5 foot shaped hole that lingered louder than silence. 

He heard Maya inhale next to him. 

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Lucas looked down at his lap, his eyes becoming watery against his own volition. _Yes, that’s what it feels like._

He scrubbed a hand over his face and clenched his jaw. 

“Same” he choked out, his voice thick. 

“Why do we do this to ourselves?” she had that quiet inquisitiveness about her that he only got to see once in a blue moon. All the fight seemed to have drained from her. Lucas didn’t have an answer. All he could think was Riley. They couldn’t hurt Riley.

“It’s not just about her,” Maya continued, reading his mind like always. Lucas finally looked up at her. There were bags under eyes and exhaustion seemed to radiate from her but she was still, well, _beautiful_. 

“That’s not everything…” Maya trailed off quietly. He watched as she nervously chewed on her lower lip. Maya looked up at him finally and hesitated, studying his face. He steeled himself for whatever came next. “You’re terrified of being your father because he terrified you.” 

The alarm bells went off.

Lucas froze, panic seizing him. 

“I-I never said” he started to stutter out. 

“You said he wasn’t a nice guy” she reminded him gently, “and when you said that, your hands. They were shaking” Maya shrugged and looked away. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her though. She was doing it again. Seeing everything in that sharp way that made his skin itch. 

She finally looked up but didn’t meet his eyes, staring at his jawline. She reached forward and tentatively brushed her finger along his scar. Her fingers, small and calloused, but softer than his. He sucked in a breath and she pulled back. “I always wondered about that.” It came out as a whisper, like she was talking to herself more so than him. “I know that we didn’t know each other then but you don’t hurt people, Huckleberry, you protect them.” Lucas swallowed. He wanted to believe her but he spent so many years on the edge, always ready to lash out, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. It didn’t matter how many miles he ran away or how many “Lucas the Good” monikers he procured, he was still his father’s son. 

Lucas looked down at his lap, swallowing hard before mustering up the courage to speak.

“But I hurt you, didn’t I?”

Maya picked at the nail polish on her fingers. 

“That’s not on you, alright? The only person hurting me is me. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

Lucas wondered, not for the first time, how the hell they got this screwed up. He wished she could see herself the way he saw her but he didn’t know how to tell her. 

He didn’t know how to say that when he came to New York she was the first person to make him smile. He didn’t know how to say that he always looked forward to seeing her and finding new ways to get under her skin. He didn’t know how to say that he felt this simultaneous urge to fight her and fight all her battles for her. That the way she giggled was so damn adorable it made his heart do backflips. That the incredibly lame jokes she constantly made throughout class like a running monologue were a million times more interesting than their lessons. That, try as he might, she always pulled a grin out of him even when it was at his expense (and it often was). He was overwhelmed by this gravitational pull towards her. This pull that he hadn’t felt towards anyone. Ever.

When Maya Hart was around Lucas just felt . . . more alive.

After a quiet minute or two, Maya spoke again, her voice raw and full of barely held emotion. 

“I feel like– like I’m on this train and I can’t get off it and it’s hurtling down this track and I just, I just can’t stop it.”

Lucas knew all about losing control, but he also knew a lot about finding it. 

“But, Maya, you can. You can change directions. You think Riley is the one who’s deciding–”

“No” Maya shook her head looking down at her lap. “No, it’s not just Riley”

~~

It’s the guy at the bodega on the corner of 93rd who watches Maya carefully everytime she comes in like he thinks she’s gonna steal something. 

It’s Ms. Alberts who doesn’t even bother looking at her exam before giving her a grade. 

It’s the fact that the principal stopped sending her to the guidance counselor and now just gives her a suspension. 

It’s the mom who’s half there and the dad that never was. 

And yeah, it’s Riley. It’s the best friend, the person who knows her best, always expecting Maya to make the wrong choice, do the destructive thing. 

~~

“It’s everyone. It’s like the world decided I was gonna get the answer wrong before they even asked me the question.”

Lucas’s heart ached. He could see all the things no one else did. The goodness, the selflessness, the unnerving intelligence. He got it now, maybe he always had on some level understood what she was doing. It’s a whole lot easier proving the world right than it is to prove them wrong. 

Trying to tell people who you are when they’ve already made up their minds isn’t just uncomfortable and frightening. It feels _pointless_. Like screaming into a void. That’s why he left Texas, really. He couldn’t muster up the strength to try to prove them wrong either. 

“Sometimes I wish I could just run away from it all” she muttered, kicking her boot against the iron bars. 

“Nah, trust me, running away doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t matter how people here see me. Once you start believing the general consensus about yourself, well… you can’t exactly run from yourself.”

Maya watched Lucas thoughtfully, before heaving a sigh and looking up at the endless sky. 

“So, I guess we’re both just fucked,” her mouth twisting up ruefully. 

Lucas huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Lucas looked over at her, this magnetic force of a girl. “Maya, for whatever it’s worth, you would’ve gotten the answer right, if they asked you the question.” 

_You would’ve proved them wrong, if they gave you the chance._

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, because you’re always right. It’s one of the more annoying things about you,” Lucas looked down at her, smirking. 

“Oh yeah?” Maya cracked a smile. 

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Oh come on now Ranger Rick, you know me. I’m nothing if not modest.”

Lucas chuckled, "Ah yes, I distinctly remember you _modestly_ telling me that I should stop wearing blue because I could never wear it as well as you do.”

“Friar, I was simply stating the facts.”

“Hart, you can’t monopolize my favorite color.”

“So what you’re saying is, blue is your favorite color because it’s the color of my eyes” she teased.

“What?” Lucas couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up. “How could you possibly get that from what I just said?”

“I was extrapolating.”

“Maya,” Lucas grinned, “you don’t even know what extrapolating means.”

“You said I knew everything.”

“I said you’re always right, there’s a difference.”

“Well, what don’t I know then?” Maya asked, raising her eyebrows, challenging him. 

“Other than the definition of extrapolating…” Lucas trailed off. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was always so easy. Easy to talk, to laugh, to breathe. Maya Hart made breathing easier and sometimes he caught himself thinking dangerous things, like he would do anything to just breath and laugh and talk like this for the rest of his days. Like he’d do anything to just keep looking at her pretty eyes, his favorite shade of blue. 

He watched her closely as she bit her lip, and her eyes flickered down to his mouth and then she was looking at him with that wide eyed expression that knocked the wind out of his lungs. He felt himself gravitate towards her without thinking, his hands reaching out to cup her face. 

But before he could close the distance between them, Maya wrapped her small hands around his wrists and pulled his hands away from her. Her eyes downcast. 

His chest hurt. 

“Lucas, we can’t. That’s not who we are.”

Lucas pulled back and dropped his head against the glass pane, squeezing his eyes shut. The guilt flooding in. Why did she always make him so reckless? And then always pull him back from the edge?

_Why her?_

“At least we know that,” he muttered, not a small amount of bitterness seeping into his voice. 

He felt Maya fall back against the window pane next to him and quietly whisper into the unassuming evening air. 

“At least we know that.”  
  


_...and i didn’t like the ending._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worry this ends feeling incomplete, but I suppose that's also kinda the point.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
